


The Right Partner

by rachlovesligers



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 21:17:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11113056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rachlovesligers/pseuds/rachlovesligers
Summary: Collection of the ficlets I wrote for steggyweek2k17





	1. After Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 01 (Saturday): Agent Carter Timeline

Peggy recognised the familiar scratch of pencil against paper instantly. She looked up at Steve, hunched over his sketchpad.

“I won’t be much longer,” she said.

Steve shook his head. “Don’t rush on my account.”

She looked down at the report. It was almost complete. The pile of filing Thompson had left for her could wait until tomorrow.

“Besides, I like watching you work,” Steve added with a small smile.

So, he was drawing her. That wasn’t surprising.

It didn’t take long to finish the report; she’d been at it most of the afternoon. Peggy dropped her pen onto the table with sigh, sinking further into her chair.

Steve was behind her in a moment, his warm hands on her shoulders. He worked the muscles there, thumbs circling firmly against her blouse.

She groaned, relaxing into his touch.

“You work too hard.”

Peggy laughed. “I got to work at half past eleven this morning, if you recall.”

“Oh, I recall.”

The deep murmur of Steve’s voice coupled with her memories of how they’d spent their morning sent a spark of pleasure through her.

Steve’s hands moved across her shoulders, trailing down the front of her blouse. He undid her top few buttons. A bold move to make in their office, but it was after hours, and they were alone, so she let him continue.

Parting the material, he exposed her shoulders. He slid the straps of her bra down, leaving her skin bare for him to continue.

The feel of his firm hands on her skin was heavenly, expertly kneading her muscles. There was something thrilling about being so exposed in the office, with Steve’s hands on her.

She groaned, knowing what it would do to Steve, and tilted her head back, exposing her neck. His lips were there almost instantly.

He worked his way along her shoulder, kissing and softly biting. She shuddered as his teeth scraped against her skin.

They’d never gone this far at work. A steamy make-out session in-between the racks of the filing room was as far as they’d dared.

Peggy twisted in her chair, moving to stand, and Steve pulled her against him. Their lips met desperately, hungry for each other. She could feel Steve hard already, against her hip.

In a single, swift movement he lifted Peggy against him. He carried her, their lips still moving together, and placed her on relatively clear desk. Peggy parted her legs, pulling Steve against her. She was already slick and desperate for him.

She groaned his name against his lips, as he fumbled with his belt. She heard the familiar rustle of a wrapper, and then he was there, filling her in the most satisfying way.

His hips moved against her, and she let him set the pace.

Peggy nipped at Steve’s earlobe, eliciting deep and breathy groans. He was already so close, his eyelids fluttering so beautifully. She loved him like this, when he was so entirely hers.

“Come for me, Steve.” She whispered in his ear and the reaction was instant, his body shuddering against her.

She held him as he came down from his peak, kissing his cheek, running her fingers through his hair.

“My darling,” she murmured repeatedly.

Never one to leave her wanting, Steve’s hands began to work her over, quickly bringing her to her own peak. Her thighs tightened around him as she cried out.

Steve worked every last ounce of pleasure out of her before he pulled his hand away, licking it clean. He cradled her against his chest as she caught her breath.

As Peggy leant against him, slowly regaining her senses, she noticed the handkerchief on the desk. Sousa’s handkerchief.

Peggy pulled back, looking at Steve. “This is Daniel’s desk.”

His expression was calm. “Is it?”

She smacked his chest.

Steve shrugged.

“I thought it would’ve been Thompson’s desk, if anyone’s.”

“That was an option.” Steve smiled. “Maybe we can try it next time.”

“You’re a menace, Steve Rogers,” she announced, slumping against his chest. “I thought you liked Daniel.”

Steve was quiet for a moment.

“He acts like you need to be rescued, and pats himself on the back for being the one to do it.” Steve’s arms tightened around her. “And he still carries a torch for you.”

Peggy tilted her head back in laughter. “You can’t be serious?”

The frown on Steve’s face suggested he was, in fact, very serious.

“My darling,” she said, brushing Steve’s hair back from his face. “Whatever Daniel feels for me doesn’t matter. I’m yours,” she planted a kiss on his cheek, “and you’re mine.”


	2. Don’t Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 02 (Sunday): AU or Crossover
> 
> Winter Soldier Peggy AU

Steve didn’t need to turn the light on to know someone was in his bedroom. He steeled himself for an attack, slowly reaching to turn on the lamp.

_Peggy._

She leant heavily against the wall, shoulders slumped inward. She didn’t look like she was here to hurt him, if she had been she’d had plenty of opportunities already. She looked exhausted.

He moved towards her slowly, hands up for her to see. His movements were stiff and he still walked with a slight limp, his injuries weren’t fully healed yet.

She didn’t recoil as he approached, which was good. She wasn’t afraid of him, they hadn’t put that idea in her head.

When he got closer he saw she was clutching her side. Noticing his gaze, she pulled her hand away, and that’s when he saw the blood.

She’d come here for help.

Steve reached out, just shy of touching her, waiting for her response. He was terrified. One wrong move and she’d be gone again, he’d lose her _again_. He’d tried to get through to her before, tried to touch her, remind her who he was. And she’d ran every time.

But this time she didn’t run. She pushed off from the wall and staggered forward, sinking onto the bed.

He knelt beside Peggy, looking at her for confirmation. She nodded. Ever so slowly, he lifted her blood-soaked shirt, exposing the side she’d been clutching.

A deep gash cut across her side, it started over her ribcage and trailed towards her stomach. It would need stitches.

“Wait here.”

Steve went to the bathroom and gathered his supplies as quickly as he could.

At the door to his bedroom, he paused, taking in a deep breath at the sight of Peggy, still on his bed. The relief was short lived. As he looked at her, lying on his bed, he was struck with the thought that this would’ve been normal, in another life. In the life they should’ve had, the life Peggy deserved, it would have been _their_ bed. The grief was crushing.

But this was their lot, and as it stood, Peggy was here with him, and not with her handlers, being tortured in a multitude of ways, and that was nothing short of a miracle.

He spread out his supplies on the nightstand, pulled a chair up to the bed, and got to work.

Peggy was quiet as he disinfected the wound, which terrified him. She must have been in almost unbearable pain. Had they forced that out of her? Forced her to swallow the pain for their own comfort?

It was a dangerous path of thought to go down, Steve knew from experience, so he tried to focus only on threading the stitches.

For an artist who was usually good with his hands, he wasn’t great at stitching up wounds. But taking her to a hospital was risky, what with a warrant out for her arrest, and he damn well wasn’t going to send her back to her handlers to patch her up, so this would have to do.

“You trust me.”

Peggy broke Steve’s train of thought with her statement. It was very clearly a statement, not a question.

“I do,” he replied evenly.

“After everything?”

Steve met her gaze. “I know you won’t hurt me Peggy.”

She frowned and he knew how perplexing his statement must seem to her. The bruises she’d given him still littered his face, though they were yellowing now, and she could probably guess at the rest of the damage she’d done by the stiffness of his movements.

“This,” he motioned to his face, “it wasn’t you. It was them, using you. You would never hurt me if you had the choice.”

She still looked unsure. “I could’ve killed you.”

“But you didn’t. You stopped.”

Peggy looked away, her eyes glassy, and he knew he had to stop. He didn’t want to push her.

But it was true. She’d beaten him to within an inch of his life, he had been barely conscious, completely at her mercy, and something had stopped her from finishing the job.

He finished up the stitches and offered her some medicine for the pain. She hesitated before deciding to take it.

“Stay as long as you need,” he told her.

He cleared up the kit, wiping the blood off Peggy’s hand before washing up himself. In the kitchen he filled a glass with water and drank it slowly, trying to keep himself together.

Peggy was here, she was relatively safe, and she knew who he was. He knew he couldn’t ask her how she got the wound, but he could give her as much support and comfort as she would allow.

He filled a fresh glass with water and carried it to the bedroom, placing it on the nightstand beside Peggy.

He turned to leave, but as he reached the door, Peggy’s voice stopped him.

“Stay.”

Steve’s heart clenched. He turned slowly, expecting to find that he’d imagined her plea.

She met his gaze evenly.

“Please.”

He didn’t hesitate a second longer, he approached the bed and laid down cautiously, looking to Peggy for reassurance.

When he was settled, she leant back against the pillow, eyelids fluttering shut.

They laid in silence for a long time. Steve studied Peggy’s face, counted the rise and fall of her chest. He couldn’t sleep with her so close, he was scared she might disappear if he closed his eyes for too long, but he felt calmer than he had in a very long time.

Steve had no idea how much time had passed when Peggy reached out, taking his hand in hers.

It jolted him, the familiarity of her touch. Her grip was solid, as he remembered, her hands still soft. He never wanted her to let go.


	3. Christmas in the trenches of Bastogne (battle of the bulge)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 03 (Monday): Firsts
> 
> First Kiss

Peggy sunk down in the snow. Her body ached to the core, every muscle and every bone felt as though it were on fire.

It had been days of relentless battle. The Germans had made too much progress, the conditions suited them far too well. But the Allies were putting up a hell of a fight.

It was a cold, crisp morning. Christmas morning, to be exact. Not that it mattered much in the depths of war, the fighting didn’t relent. Although the day had mercifully brought clear skies, which would allow the Allied fighter bombers to help them take back the advantage.

The crunch of approaching footsteps on snow interrupted her train of thought, immediately putting her on edge. She felt stiff, reaching for her gun.

“It’s only me.”

She relaxed at the familiar sound of Steve’s voice.

“Why aren’t you sitting with the fellas?” He asked.

She looked up at him. His cheeks were rosy from the cold, and he still wore his lopsided, boyish grin, even in this hell. It warmed her heart.

“I just wanted a moment alone.”

“Oh,” he shifted on his feet. “I’ll just, I’ll head –”

“No, please stay.”

She hadn’t meant for him to leave. She’d been trying to find peace, if only for a brief moment, amongst everything. The fellas were her family, but they kept their spirits up with boisterous banter, and while that suited her just fine most days, today she needed the quiet.

“Stay and keep me warm.” She patted the spot next to her.

He nodded, moving to sit by her side. Peggy leant against him, his solid mass and warmth was desperately comforting.

“The weather looks good today. Should help us make some headway.”

Peggy hummed in agreement.

They sat in silence, leaning on each other.

It was peaceful, for a while. Until it wasn’t. Until the images of blood stained snow and mangled bodies started to cloud her mind.

She pulled off her glove, wincing at the biting cold, and reached for Steve’s hand. He didn’t need gloves, even in these conditions his hands burned hot as furnaces.

But she wasn’t looking for warmth. She needed his touch, his comfort.

Steve obliged, holding her hand firmly. It calmed her, Steve’s skin against hers, even in such a small dose.

It wasn’t the time to fall for someone, there was so much to be done, war demanded a person’s full attention. So their relationship consisted of a gaze held across a room, fingers stroking against each other under a table, and an unspoken agreement that they belonged to each other.

She felt Steve’s breath on her cheek as he studied her face.

“You ok?” His voice was rough.

Peggy turned and offered him a small smile.

“I’ll be alright.”

Steve held her gaze, his face inches from hers. She wasn’t sure who moved first, it might’ve been both of them, but suddenly Peggy’s lips were pressed against Steve’s.

His lips were so soft and supple, which didn’t surprise her, she’d imagined they would be. He moved so slowly, so gently, like he was scared if he moved too quickly it would be over too soon.

Their kiss was slow and slightly awkward at first, they were feeling each other out, figuring out how they fit together. They stumbled and teeth bashed together slightly, but it didn’t matter. It was _Steve_.

Steve’s inexperienced lips, Steve’s hand lifting to touch her cheek, Steve’s warmth encompassing her. In that moment nothing else mattered.

They broke for air but came back together seconds later, more desperate and needy than before. She knew the taste of him now, knew the comfort and the thrill his lips brought her.

She was panting when they finally pulled away, Steve’s hand still cupping her cheek. With their foreheads pressed together, he murmured her name.

Shouts in the distance broke through their bliss. They’d have to get back to it soon, they had a war to win, after all.

“Can we do this again sometime?” Steve asked, his hand still keeping her close.

“Of course,” she murmured. She stroked his hair back from his face. “We’ll have plenty of time, when this is all over.”


	4. Peggy and Steve study for exams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 04 (Tuesday): Modern Day

Peggy read the sentence for a fourth time. It wasn’t going in, nothing was bloody going in.

She hadn’t had to study for an exam in over seventy years. The fact that she’d been cryogenically frozen for a good portion of that time was beside the point, she was too old for exams.

But it was S.H.I.E.L.D. policy that all agents take an exam every three years that was designed to test theoretical knowledge of espionage, law-enforcement and counter-terrorism, and show a solid understanding of all S.H.I.E.L.D. standard procedures.

It was a bullshit new policy.

Peggy tried the sentence again. It was about interrogation tactics, how best to get information without resorting to torture. She snorted, this was absurd. She’d fought in a war for goodness sake, she knew how interrogation worked.

Steve was frustratingly calm about the whole thing, but then he’d always been one for learning through reading. She’d never forget the sight of him at Camp Lehigh, carting around his foot locker like it was full of bricks. Most of the other privates assumed he was exceptionally weak, but she’d seen him packing it away when he’d had to switch lodgings. She knew he’d brought a library with him.

He’d always intrigued her, even then. With his polite charm and the force of his determination.

Her phone buzzed and it snapped her out of her daydream. She looked at the screen and realised fifteen minutes had passed and she still hadn’t finished the damn sentence.

She threw the book across the room. It was hopeless.

Steve looked up from his laptop, glancing at the book on the floor.

“I don’t think you get marks for using the skills the books talk about on the books themselves.”

“Smartarse.” Peggy frowned at him. “How are you going to pass? You haven’t even opened the book yet.”

“Videos.” He nodded towards his laptop.

She waited for him to elaborate.

“I’ll read the book nearer the time, it won’t take me long.” He leaned over from his position on the couch, turning his laptop to show her. “There’s a helpful page on the S.H.I.E.L.D. website with links to YouTube videos that are supposed to help with the exam.”

Peggy walked over to the couch, sitting next to Steve.

“Help how?”

He clicked one of the links and it opened up a new tab, where the video started playing. It featured a young man and woman talking about one of the topics. They cut to scenes where they would play out the theory, with one of them pretending to be the agent.

It was mildly patronising watching two people act out an ambush while calmly pointing out the do’s and don’ts of the situation, but it was a thousand times more engaging than that damn book.

Peggy settled against Steve’s side and he wrapped an arm around her, positioning the laptop on their laps so they could both see the screen clearly. They watched the video and then Steve clicked the next link, taking them through the topics one by one.

After about the fifth video Peggy noticed the thumbnails along the side.

“One-hundred layers of nail polish? They can’t be serious.”

“What?” Steve turned to her, brows furrowed.

“Right there.” She moved the cursor, clicking on the image.

Sure enough they watched a girl coat her nails in one-hundred layers of nail polish, one by one.

“It looks like it’s some kind of trend.” Steve said when it was over. He ran his finger down the side of the screen, pointing out numerous other absurd videos.

They settled on one-hundred layers of duct tape next.

Seven videos in Peggy remembered why they were on the site in the first place.

“This is entertaining, but it isn’t helping me learn how to carry out an interrogation without using torture.”

“You already know how to do that.”

“I _know_ ,” she replied, frustrated. “But I need to know how S.H.I.E.L.D. thinks it’s done or else I’ll fail this exam.”

Steve closed the laptop, pushing it aside. He reached around and pulled Peggy onto his lap, so she was straddling him. Wrapping his hand around the side of her neck, he pulled her to him and captured her lips in a kiss.

“You’re the smartest person I know,” he said when they pulled apart. “You’re not going to fail this exam.”

“I’m sure you’re right, but I’m certainly not going to get any studying done if you keep distracting me like this.”

Steve raised his eyebrow, a teasing look in his face.

“Oh, well in that case…” He moved to push her away.

“Don’t you dare.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him breathless. Studying be damned.


	5. Mr & Mrs Clarke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 05 (Wednesday): Tropes, Kinks or Cliches 
> 
> Pretend married + Bed sharing

“You’ll have to kiss me.”

Steve’s head whipped around. “What?”

“If we’re going to portray a married couple effectively, we’ll have to kiss.” Peggy unlocked the suitcase, rummaging through the unfamiliar clothes. “And you’ll need to be comfortable touching me. Holding hands, placing your hand on the small of my back, that sort of thing.”

Steve looked stunned.

Surely this didn’t come as a surprise. What had he expected when he’d found out they were going undercover as a married couple?

He swallowed thickly and nodded.

“I’m going to change.” Peggy picked up a floor-length, pink nightgown and headed to the bathroom.

With the nightgown on, she studied herself in the mirror. Not her usual style, but that was probably the intention. Although it did wonders for her cleavage.

It was a pity the outfit couldn’t be put to real use.

She and Steve weren’t on bad terms, but considering their relationship consisted of stunted small talk and avoiding each other’s gaze in the office, it seemed a stretch to consider themselves on good terms.

Peggy honestly didn’t know what had gone wrong. They’d been close during the war, there was a kiss, and talk of going dancing. It had felt as though they were heading towards something.

But a lot of things felt different after the war ended.

She gathered her clothes, returning to the bedroom. It was no use dwelling on what might’ve been.

She noticed Steve watching her when she was unpacking, he was holding a book, but his gaze followed her around the room. She tried to ignore it.

Peggy was in bed when Steve finally gave up pretending to read. She heard him pacing, before the bed dipped under his weight.

He turned to her. “Is this, should I –”

“Get into bed Steve, you’re not sleeping on the floor.”

When he was settled, she turned off the lamp, leaving them in darkness.

* * *

When Peggy woke the sun had just begun to peek through a gap in the curtains, although the room was still dim.

She felt well rested, but she was unbearably hot. She stretched, shifting to move the bed covers off her, and that’s when she noticed the warm arm, wrapped around her waist.

She blinked, trying to get her bearings, and turned her head to the side. Steve was wrapped around her, the length of his warm body pressed against her side.

“Steve?”

He moaned sleepily, arm tightening around her waist.

“Mm, _Peggy_.” He pressed his face against her hair, softly nuzzling.

She gazed, open-mouthed, unsure how to react. It wasn’t a bad development at all, it was simply unexpected.

She watched Steve, he was still mostly asleep, hair completely askew. He was beautiful, as he always had been.

He started snoring slightly, a quiet but deep sound. Something about seeing him like this, so vulnerable and off-guard, reminded her of the way she’d felt about him before the serum. Fiercely protective.

He shifted, starting to wake up. Blinking up at her, confusion started to cloud his features. Before he had time to realise what he’d done, to pull away in embarrassment, she pressed her lips to his.

She was slow, gentle, waiting for him to react. To her delight he kissed her back, eager as anything.

They kissed for long minutes, relishing in the feel of each other.

When Peggy finally pulled away, resting back against the pillow, Steve was gazing dreamily at her.

“Will we get to do that a lot, now that we’re married?”

Peggy laughed. “Yes, we will.” She traced his lips with her finger. “We might even do it when this is over, if you play your cards right.”

The grin that spread across Steve’s face made her heart leap.


	6. Steggy + Uniforms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 06 (Thursday): Quotes, Lyrics, etc. 
> 
> Ida Maria - I Like You So Much Better When You’re Naked

“Well, nobody’s perfect.” Peggy offered him a sultry look, making his insides turn to liquid.

_You’re perfect._

And she was. He’d seen first-hand, for the first time last night. He’d lost himself in every curve, every peak, every soft edge of her body.

Even in her uniform you could see the perfect proportions of her figure. It emphasised them, almost. As if His Majesty’s Armed Forces had styled the uniform just for her.

His body followed her as she walked past him, and he caught the scent of her perfume.

There was a conversation with Colonel Philips and Stark about a medal, pissing off senators, or something. But Steve couldn’t take his eyes off Peggy.

When the conversation ended Peggy excused herself, motioning for Steve to follow.

“I’ve got a report I need you to look over.”

“Report?”

“Yes, this way,” she said, and walked into the supply closet.

Steve stood, brows furrowed, before she tugged on his tie and pulled him in. With the door shut they were pressed close.

“You look sinfully handsome in your uniform.” She pulled him down, kissing him hungrily. “It’s unbelievably distracting.”

“Funny that,” he smiled at her. “I was just thinking exactly the same thing.”

Their lips met again and they kissed languidly, hands roaming. When they pulled apart they were breathless.

“I do adore the uniform,” she said, then leaned in to whisper in his ear, “but I like you so much better when you’re naked.”


	7. Sunday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 07 (Friday): Free for all!

James pulled the puzzle box from the bottom of the pile, and everything came tumbling out with it. Puzzle pieces, dice, playing cards were strewn across the floor.

He stood clutching the box he’d been after, looking up at his parents with a wary smile. “Sorry.”

Steve knelt down, gathering the various playing pieces.

“I just wanted to show mommy how I did the puzzle.” He sat down, helping Steve, puzzle box still under one arm.

“James, I believed you when your father told me you’d finished the puzzle all by yourself.”

“I know, but I want to _show_ you!”

Peggy smiled. He’d completed it while she’d been at work, but was desperate for her to see it first-hand.

“Go on,” Steve said, “I’ll finish tidying up.”

James jumped up in excitement, moving to find space on the floor.

Peggy followed, Maggie still on her hip, and settled on the couch to watch him.

Maggie grumbled, though it was a soft, sweet sound, as Peggy shifted her, holding her against her chest. Their daughter was not fond of mornings, her favourite word before ten o’clock was “no.”

She got that from Peggy, though she hated to admit it.

“Dugan said you need smarts to be a Howling Commando.” James said, tongue sticking out as he concentrated on the puzzle, the way Steve’s did when he was particularly focused on a drawing.

He had Steve’s eyes, and his knack for standing up to bullies with his fists. James had barely started school, but they’d already had multiple visits to the principal’s office.

“What does Dugan know about smarts?” Steve replied.

“That’s what Jones said too. _He_ said I need languages.”

“Languages?”

“Yeah, but Miss Taylor said I won’t start learning those until I’m ten.” James sat back on his heels, studying the pieces in his hands.

He finished the puzzle, as he’d promised he would, and looked up at Peggy with a beaming grin across his face.

“Definitely Howling Commando material,” she said, studying the puzzle.

James could barely contain his excitement.

Maggie wriggled in Peggy’s arms, reaching towards her brother. Peggy let her go, and she bounded across the floor towards the puzzle.

It was only when she reached it that Peggy realised her intention.

“Maggie stop!” James yelled as his sister pulled apart the puzzle, scattering his hard work across the floor.

He turned to his parents, lip quivering as his hands balled into fists at his sides. Maggie was giggling as she pulled at another piece and threw it over her shoulder.

Steve lunged forward, scooping her into his arms.

“Let’s get you dressed,” he said as he carried her out of the room.

Peggy knelt at James’ side, wrapping her arms around him she covered his face with noisy kisses.

“My clever, clever boy,” she said between kisses.

It did the trick; he began giggling and squirming away from her.

With James in a cheerful mood, they followed Steve in the children’s bedroom. James immediately ran to the chest of drawers, pulling out clothes.

James always insisted on dressing himself. He was eager to make as many of his own choices as he could. It caused tantrums on school days, when there simply wasn’t time, but on weekends they were happy to indulge him.

It took him a few tries to get it right. He got his trouser on the wrong leg, and the socks were a struggle, but he got there in the end. Then he picked up a shirt with buttons, and Peggy knew it was wasn’t going to be an easy task.

While she began dressing Maggie, Steve tried to help James, who kept pushing his hand away every time it got too near for his liking.

James eventually had to concede after too many failed attempts, and stood there frowning while Steve swiftly buttoned his shirt.

The problem with Steve helping James was that he was ready well before Maggie was. He stood beside Peggy, pulling faces as his sister, his previous upset long forgotten.

“‘ames!” Maggie laughed, sticking her tongue out at her brother. Peggy tried to keep her attention, holding her dress out, ready to put on, but getting dressed proved far less entertaining than James’ expressions.

Peggy picked her up, carrying Maggie into her and Steve’s bedroom.

Personality-wise, Maggie seemed to be a mix of both her parents so far. She certainly had Steve’s unshakable determination when she decided she wanted to do something. But when it came to her appearance she was predominantly Peggy.

It was partly why she’d been named Margaret. Peggy was blissful and delirious, post-labour, and would’ve probably gone along with any name Steve had suggested. The way he’d murmured her name as he cradled their new-born daughter would have made any moniker sound heavenly.

“Mama.” Maggie patted her head and Peggy knew exactly what she was after. She was extremely fond of having her hair brushed by her mother, especially while sitting at Peggy’s vanity.

Eventually Steve and James joined them. While the children played with odd pieces of a train set that had been left in the room, Steve perched on the end of the bed, watching Peggy style her hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

She met his eyes in the mirror, feeling her cheeks warm ever so slightly.

He stood and placed his hands on her shoulders, leaning down to kiss her cheek. A glance in the mirror told her the children were engrossed in their toys.

She turned her head slightly, tilting it up, giving him better access to her lips. He kissed her, slow and sweet, before sinking back onto the bed.

Peggy reached for her lipstick, slowly pulling the cap off the tube, when she caught sight of Maggie in the mirror, stumbling towards her.

“Liss-tick!” She screeched, chubby little hands reaching out.

Steve grabbed her as she passed him, lifting her onto his lap as she tried to wriggle away.

“You’re too small for lipstick,” he said, tickling her.

“Am I big enough for lipstick?” James piped up, standing beside Peggy at the vanity.

“Not yet,” she told him. “Not until you’re this tall.” She held up her hand, inches above James’ head.

He jumped up and down, desperately trying to reach it, making Maggie laugh hysterically. Steve’s smile was ear-to-ear as he gazed at their children.

It was moments like this that made Peggy eternally grateful that Steve had listened to her desperate pleas, and given her his goddamn coordinates.


End file.
